The Time Machine - International World History Project

The Time Machinereminded by an advertisement that I had promised to meetRichardson, the publisher, at two. I looked at my watch,and saw that I could barely save that engagement. I got upand went down the passage to tell the Time Traveller.As I took hold of the handle of the door I heard anexclamation, oddly truncated at the end, and a click and athud. A gust of air whirled round me as I opened thedoor, and from within came the sound of broken glassfalling on the floor. The Time Traveller was not there. Iseemed to see a ghostly, indistinct figure sitting in awhirling mass of black and brass for a moment—a figureso transparent that the bench behind with its sheets ofdrawings was absolutely distinct; but this phantasmvanished as I rubbed my eyes. The Time Machine hadgone. Save for a subsiding stir of dust, the further end ofthe laboratory was empty. A pane of the skylight had,apparently, just been blown in.I felt an unreasonable amazement. I knew thatsomething strange had happened, and for the momentcould not distinguish what the strange thing might be. As Istood staring, the door into the garden opened, and theman-servant appeared.We looked at each other. Then ideas began to come.‘Has Mr. —— gone out that way?’ said I.145 of 148